


Frozen Mazarine

by AuroraExecution



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Cold, Explicit Language, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Unhealthy Relationships, dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraExecution/pseuds/AuroraExecution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're both breathing, but coldness is consuming them. </p>
            </blockquote>





	Frozen Mazarine

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching clips of something on youtube, and there's a scene similar to this one, where there's an accident in the snow, and I suddenly just imagined Draco and Harry in that situation, except with more angst.  Also, mazarine is a deep blue color. 

Breathing.

Someone is breathing. He is breathing.

“Draco?”

He knows that voice, but he doesn’t remember who it is anymore. The world falls to black.

* * *

_“You can’t even say it, can you?”_

_“Say what?”_

_“You know what.”_

_“I fucking hate it when you go in circles.”_

_“Fine. I’ll tell you. You don’t want to marry the girl they picked for you.”_

_“Daphne’s sister is a nice girl.” He remembers the white lie._

_“You’re terrified at the thought of being chained to her forever, and you’re terrified that your parents will be angry if you refuse.”_

_“Shut_ up _!”_

_“You care about me, and you want me to stay, even if you insist it’s not like that.”_

_“Because it’s_ not _!”_

_“You hate being afraid and out of control.”_

_“I’m_ perfectly _in control!”_

_“You’re lying to yourself.”_

* * *

Breathing.

They’re both still breathing.

It’s good. It means they’re both still alive.

Reassured, he falls back into the warm darkness.

* * *

_“Don’t you fucking walk away from this.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“You want this, I know you do._ I _want this.”_

 _“When have I ever cared about what_ you _want?”_

_Another’s silence, trying to say: why such cruelty?_

_His own silence, answering: what of it?_

_“Then perhaps I was wrong about you, Draco.”_

_“Perhaps you were, Potter.”_

* * *

Breathing.

Only one of them is breathing. His heart grows too big for his throat.

“…Dr…Draco?”

Oh. He had forgotten to breathe himself. Everything is all right again, and he slips away from blinding white to unending black.

* * *

_“_ What _are you_ doing _?”_

 _“I’m_ moving on _. Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?”_

_“No. No. You can’t.”_

_“Oh? And who are you to tell me what I can’t do?”_

_“I’m—”_

_“Nothing. Exactly. Now go away, I don’t like wasting time on people with no connection to me.”_

_“No. I hate you. Y-you’re stupid. Fucking Potter, thinking you can go off and do_ this _.”_

_The hands that push him away are gentle, but they’re still pushing. “I gave you a chance, Draco. It’s too late now.” The voice that rejects him is gentle too, but it still slices through him sharply._

_“I…I hate you. I’ve a-always hated you.”_

_He wasn’t crying that day, no matter what Harry says._

* * *

Breathing.

Harry is breathing. Harry is breathing.

That must mean it’s safe for Draco to fall asleep again.

* * *

_“Harry.”_

_“What, Draco?”_

_“I miss you.”_

_“Draco, it’s the middle of the night. We’re not together anymore, not that we ever really were. Why are you here?”_

_“I miss you.”_

_“Draco…have you been drinking?”_

_“I miss you.”_

_“That’s fine, Draco.”_

_“I…_ miss _you.”_

_“Draco, you missing me isn’t going to fix things. Why are you here?”_

_“It’s cold.”_

_“Fuck, did you walk here? In the snowstorm? Bloody—you’re drunk, aren’t you?” He sighs. “Fine. I’ll drive you home so you stop causing trouble, but don’t you fucking dare pull this shite on me ever again, got it?”_

_“Harry.”_

_“Get in the car.”_

* * *

Breathing.

Two bodies are breathing.

He tries to open his eyes, but they just won’t move.

He hears the breathing beside him, and lets go again.

* * *

_"Harry?”_

_“_ What _, Draco?”_

_“I’m cold.”_

_“Yes. Yes, you are. You’re also drunk, and you’ll be home soon anyway.”_

_“I’m going to die.”_

_“You’re not going to die. You’ve just drunk too much firewhiskey.”_

_“No, I am. I’m going to freeze.”_

_“I know you have fireplaces, Draco.”_

_He shakes his head hard. “Not that. I’m_ cold _.”_

_Bile and sarcasm rise in Harry’s words. “Yes, Draco, you’re a fucking frigid prick. You can’t fucking tell people when you care about them, and then you won’t bloody let them live their lives in peace. You are very cold, I agree.”_

_“Now you get it.”_

_“Get what?”_

_“How I’m cold. And you’re not cold, so it was okay, but now it’s her, and she’s cold, and I’m cold, and we’re going to freeze to death together.”_

_A silence follows, that Draco is too drunk to understand._

_“Harry? I’m cold.”_

_“Draco—”_

_And it all goes dark._

* * *

Draco’s eyes switch open. “Harry!”

“Draco?”

“Harry, where are you?” Draco forces his neck to start working again. All he remembers is that Harry was driving him home after he’d gone to Harry’s house tipsy, because the Manor was disconnected from the Floo Network and it was too far to Apparate and they couldn’t fly in the storm. He remembers that it was cold, and then there was noise and nothing.

His eyes gravitate toward Harry, who is lying beside him, their faces turned to the sky. “Harry?”

Harry’s eyelids flutter open. “Draco?”

“Oh—oh, Merlin. Oh…Harry—Harry, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Harry tells him, thin streaks of blood across his neck.

Draco forces himself into life and scrabbles at the door for a moment, managing to squirm out from his seat. He runs across to the driver’s door and tugs, but the door is too warped to open properly. “Harry…” He chokes on a strange combination of terror and remorse.

“I’ll be fine, Draco.”

Wind moans over the empty moors beside them. Draco reaches for Harry’s arm. “Harry…I-I can’t—there isn’t anyone here—what do I do?”

“Do you have your wand?”

“Yes.” Draco pulls it out.

“Can you cast a heating charm?”

“Of course I can.” He speaks the incantation, but nothing happens.

“You aren’t exactly in the healthiest condition either,” Harry reminds him gently, but Draco ignores him and tries again.

After the eleventh try, Draco throws down his wand and shouts in frustration, but this causes dizziness, so he leans against the car and tries to get his bearings. Harry waits for him.

“What about you?” Draco finally asks, but Harry shakes his head.

“I can’t move my arms.”

“Wandless?”

Harry incants the spell. He is no more successful than Draco was with a wand. “Seems not,” Harry announces after a few more tries.

“Then what should I do?” demands Draco. “Should I try to walk in some direction and maybe I’ll get to a town?”

“No!” Harry not-quite-shouts. “Stay,” he adds, more softly. “It’s…cold.”

Draco nods, and squats back down beside Harry, whose teeth are chattering uncontrollably and whose lips have become tinted blue. The snow has stopped by now, but the cold is getting worse, and Draco is full of emotions and words he can’t seem to say. He wants to explain his regrets about walking away from Harry, and he wants to tell Harry that he really does kind of care, and he really, really just wants to fix everything right now. But he doesn’t feel like he can say any of these things, so instead he kisses the icy blue lips and tries to hold on to Harry as best as he can.

They are both silent for a while after Draco moves away, as they watch each other in a mix of apprehension and worry.

“Harry?” Draco begins.

“…Y-yes?” The chattering has grown worse. Draco flattens and contorts himself into a lying position tightly against Harry’s side.

“You’re cold.”

“Not anymore,” says Harry with a smile as his eyes flicker shut again.

* * *

Breathing.

They are breathing together. The sound is soft in the cold air.

“Are we going to die?”

“No,” Draco says, but there are rivulets of ice streaking his blue-tinted face. 


End file.
